


in the cell of my heart

by orphan_account



Series: "we had a bonding moment!" shorts [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Declarations Of Love, M/M, Riding, this is che e e se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “ Seriously? ” Keith murmured, “You put  Asleep on a sex playlist?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't read this through but i do not give a Fuck for i am sick : )

There’s a warm mouth on his cheek and his fingers wrap around Keith’s wrist before Lance is even able to press play on his Spotify playlist. He’d paid for premium for a reason, and he’d spent all of last night combining all of Keith’s favourite songs-- a lot of nineties alternative, with an overlying current of bass-- into a single compilation just for  _ this _ ; for feeling Keith laugh against his neck as he sticks his cold fingers underneath his shirt and push him back against his mattress. His mattress squeaks, but that doesn’t matter; Keith  _ giggles _ as Lance crawls on top of him and kiss him, hard, and he likes Keith a  _ whole lot _ , so it’s the best damn sound he’s ever heard.

Keith disagrees, Lance thinks as he sucks a mark into Keith’s throat. Keith doesn’t like his laugh; the way his teeth are a little crooked and he’s got a scar on his cupid’s bow, and sometimes, he snorts. That’s fine, Lance decides as he pulls Keith’s shirt off. He’d just have to love it enough for the both of them.

Keith’s fingers dig into his shoulders as he settles in between Lance’s arms once more. The song changes; there’s a piano, and Morrissey’s voice fills Lance’s tiny dorm room, bouncing off  _ Star Wars _ posters and photographs of Lance with Pidge and Hunk and Keith, and everyone. 

Keith halts, for a moment. His fingers tighten their hold, and he swallows. Lance lifts his head from Keith’s neck to glance at him. Keith blinks up at him, and tucks a strand of hair behind Lance’s ear. Lance has to will himself not to blush at the gesture; it’s gentle and domestic.

“ _ Seriously _ ?” Keith murmured, “You put  _ Asleep  _ on a sex playlist?”

Lance drops down to rest his head on Keith’s chest; chin tucked underneath folded hands on on his sternum.

“Is that what we’re doing?” he says. 

Keith’s lips split into a grin, and Lance is sort of worried he’ll start crying at the sight. Keith’s a hurricane-- always at a hundred miles per hour-- and the thought that he’s calm and at ease  _ here _ \-- in Lance’s small dorm that smells sort of like cheese-- makes him so happy he’s  _ chest hurts _ .

“Yeah; if you wanna,” Keith tells him.

Lance smiles a brilliant grin up at him. 

“It  _ is _ , my dearest darling.” He kisses along Keith’s collar, up to his neck. When he nips at that spot behind Keith’s ear, Keith moans. Lance almost loses it then and there. “And don’t you  _ dare _ diss  _ Asleep _ . I know it’s your favourite song,” he breathes into Keith’s ear, nipping the lobe and licking the shell of it. Keith holds onto him a little tighter and tilts his head back.

“It is,” Keith replies, “I’m not complaining.”

Lance hums in agreeance.

“Good,” he tells him, and  _ then _ the fun begins. Keith comes alive under his touch, Lance thinks as he licks down Keith’s shoulder, down to his chest. He blossoms like a goddamn flower; Keith arches his back and cards his fingers through Lance’s hair, pushing his mouth closer to where he wants it to be. Lance kisses the outside of his thigh-- strong and soft, there’s hidden power in all of his body-- and his hipbone-- it could poke his eye out, truly-- and hooks his fingers in the elastic of Keith’s boxers, pulling them down until Keith’s naked underneath him, and  _ God, what a sight.  _

Lance leans back for a moment; to appreciate it, really. Keith’s flushed, and his hair is mussed. There’re scars on nearly every limb, and they stick out like a sore thumb, since Keith’s so goddamn pale. He’s a porcelain doll that’s fallen off a shelf and stuck back together haphazardly. 

Lance doesn’t mind the cracks; he’s not poetic enough to say he wants to heal or fix Keith-- Keith’s not broken, after all-- but he doesn’t  _ care _ . When he’d told Keith that, Keith’d taken it the wrong way and punched him, and Lance supposed he deserved it, though he didn’t mean it like  _ that _ . It simply never mattered to him. He likes Keith just the way he is. It was never a  _ problem _ . It’s a part of Keith-- the scars and the anger and the  _ sheer momentum _ inside that boy-- and that’s fine. All Lance sees is a boy, and right now--

Keith’s so very human. Lance can’t help but press hot kisses to the sensitive skin of Keith’s groin just to hear him fall apart at the seams under his touch. 

“Lance,” Keith breathes, and  _ God _ , Lance is never good at holding back when it comes to Keith. He’s too addictive. 

“Yeah,” Lance sighs; resignated. He’s accepted his fate;  _ here lie the broken bones of Lance Miguel Jesús Sanchez, he lived a happy life---- _

He licks his lips and takes Keith into his mouth, and Morrissey can’t drown out the rasped breath he exhales. It’s funny; Lance isn’t even that good at sucking someone off, but then again, Keith’s kisses make him breathless, and Keith’s the  _ worst _ kisser he’s ever encountered. He’s improved, though. That’s what matters.

Lance’s improved his technique at giving head, too; when he’s up for it, he can suck like his life depends on his and bob his head with almost violent enthusiasm, the way Keith does it. Lance doesn’t do that tonight, though. It’s slow, though not tortuous. It’s slow enough to tear those shy, breathless noises from Keith’s throat, and not loud moans. Lance loves his voice either way, but those rasped, small gasps of air are his favourite, if he had to choose.

Keith’s toes curl, and his jaw drops a little as he tilts his head back and inhales a shaking gasp of air as Lance tongues the slit.

“Lance,” Keith exhales. He tugs at his hair, and Lance pulls off for a moment.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Wanna ride you,” Keith mumbles. It’s so quiet Lance almost doesn’t hear it. His eyes widen, and he blushes as he blinks up at him.

“Yeah,” Lance replies, licking his lips and swallowing spit and pre-come down a dry throat, “Okay, I-- sure, if you-- if you want to.”

Keith nods, and averts his gaze; he seems shy, and  _ fuck _ , if it doesn’t make Lance fall somehow  _ even _ harder for him. 

Lance falls back on his mattress as Keith climbs on top of him. His knees are on either side of his hips, and he presses himself up against Lance’s chest, sucking on his neck. Lance’s fingers trail up and down Keith’s spine, gently, as if he were asleep.

Keith grabs for the bottle of lube in Lance’s nightstand, and Lance’s hands move to Keith’s hips, stroking the jut of them with his thumbs. They’re callused-- from guitar and badminton practice-- though Keith doesn’t seem to mind. He uncaps the bottle and spreads the liquid over his fingers before pressing them against him.

Lance kisses his cheek-- his neck, his temple; every inch of skin he can reach-- as Keith curls against his chest, pushing a finger inside of himself, then two. He curls them, and his breath comes out a little faster, after that. 

Keith adds another finger, then pulls them out; rolls a condom on Lance and eases down. He closes his eyes-- Lance knows he’s embarrassed-- and he’s breathing through his mouth, rasped pants until he’s fully seated. Lance’s hands steady him, and he sits up; he can see Keith’s face better this way, and  _ God _ , what a sight it is. His cheeks are flushes, and his hair is in his face-- Lance pulls it back with his hand-- and he’s beautiful. 

“Keith,” Lance whispers, despite himself, and Keith opens his eyes, looking down at him with such attention and lust and sheer  _ love _ it makes Lance’s stomach flip. 

Lance kisses him all over. He breathes nonsense words over his skin--  _ mí corazon, mí amor, te amo-- _ and Keith tears a single moan from his throat, arches his back in Lance’s arms. 

“You’re amazing,” Lance tells his lower lip in a breathless exhale, “You’re gorgeous, and I-- I love you.”

Keith’s face goes red. He doesn’t reply, and Lance realises that he’s said those three words on a rainy Thursday evening after getting Subway for dinner. Keith probably expected it-- if he did at all-- over a candlelit dinner, or something romantic borrowed from Hollywood, perhaps a serenade, and not now, when Keith probably feels like Lance doesn’t mean it; like it was only a good idea in the heat of the moment. 

“I mean it. I really do.”

Keith swallows. His shoulders slack, and he exhales a single breath before--

“I love you, too.”

Lance smiles. His eyes crinkle as he laughs; he’s such so  _ goddamn happy _ . He feels like he could run a marathon or paint a Picasso as Keith laughs, too, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, carding his fingers through his hair and grinning down at him. 

Lance cups his face and kisses him until their breaths intertwine and Keith’s lips are spit-shined. He rolls his hips, languidly, and Lance groans against his open mouth. Keith gasps and digs his nails into Lance’s shoulders and back-- it’ll leave marks-- as Lance’s hand moves down to stroke Keith; one, two, three times. He comes into his hand, and Lance sees white and chokes a half-sob as Keith clamps down on him. 

Keith’s still trying to regain his breath as Lance pulls out of him and ties the condom, throwing it on the floor. He’ll take care of it later; after waking up with Keith in his arms and eating Keith’s absolutely  _ horrible  _ breakfast, as well as making Keith and himself  _ edible  _ food. 

He twists around, and watches Keith pull on a t-shirt, since it’s October and the heating in Lance’s dorm is sort of broken. Lance is a human furnace. He doesn’t get cold, whereas Keith has permanent frostbite in his hands and feet. Lance doesn’t mind, though. It gives him an excuse to hold Keith closer to him, which he does; he pulls Keith down, head landing on the pillows, and wraps his arms around him. 

Keith giggles-- he  _ giggles _ \-- and strokes Lance’s hair, patting down some fly-aways. Lance smiles at him, and kisses the tip of his nose, then his temple, his cheeks, his chin and jaw. Keith goes liquid in his arms. Lance’s playlist comes to an end. 

“I love you,” Keith tells him. He’s smiling widely, and Lance can’t help but tilt his chin up and kiss him, whispering endless words into his mouth. 

_ Eat your heart out, Morrissey,  _ Lance thinks. 

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me on my tumblr @ reminscees


End file.
